We are the poets.
We create poetry out of silence.
We are so incredibly good with words.
People often wonder what our hands can do.
People find these fingers incredible.
They watch as these fingers transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
They watch as static thoughts transform into kinetic conversations.

As simple as they are, these words tend to sound like proverbs.
The void that you constantly try to avoid.
We will fill that void with light.
The type of light that constellations hunger for.
These hands transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
The aim is not always to write to impress.
But rather to write to express.
We constantly find light in the darkest of places.
Even constellations envy the light found in our eyes.
With a suitable paint brush, these words can create vivid images of paradise.

Our words create worlds.
Our words create worlds within worlds.
Our words capture moments and paint pictures.
So next time you hear one of us recite, bring a friend and a frame along.

We create poetry out of silence.
We are so incredibly good with words.
People often wonder what our hands can do.
People find these fingers incredible.
They watch as these fingers transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
They watch as static thoughts transform into kinetic conversations.
We are the poets, you should ask the world about us.

Heaven help the citizen
the worthy to be denizen
of Love inspired by Tennyson
awaken from false hope!
and Heaven help her poetry
sincere insensibility
the height of all futility
to party like the Pope!

Heaven help the serious
who grasp that sweet delirious
the simple yet mysterious
is natures way of speaking
and Heaven help our attitude
to dwell in sleepy gratitude
her longitude and latitude?
a treasure for the seeking!

Heaven help her doggedness
the sluggish **** of fogginess
the rhyme afloat in bogginess
which pulls her reader down.
and Heaven help the man again
who treads the Old Shenanigan
to find a wretched mannequin
a fool in love could drown.

Heaven help us everyone
the world has lost it's sense of fun
depending on the wealthy one
to build amusement features
and Heaven help the child within
the haggard *** to see again
to breathe the life which God has won
and offers to all creatures!

"If we could apply ourselves half as much to progress
as we apply to working around obstacles we construct,
we wouldn't need to worry about resources;
for we are biological and thus infinite,
should we prove worthy
in a sustainable environment.

WHY IS THAT SO HARD?"






After a moment or two, the stars inaudibly echoed that "that's what the Gods call: 'being Human.' If only you knew how it aches to be!"

That in itself just blew my ******' mind.

Of course the English language *****: it's a language of disharmony.
Get over it and build upon it and/or get the **** out of the way!